


all the subliminal things

by trixstar



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Awkward Crush, Character Study, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Gen, Humor, Mostly Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Romance, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22238509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixstar/pseuds/trixstar
Summary: Byleth's noticed more than a few things after being the Blue Lions' professor for a while.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Blue Lions Students & My Unit | Byleth, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 18
Kudos: 300





	all the subliminal things

**Author's Note:**

> first published work whoop whoop, title from sucker by the jonas brothers :P there aren't any real spoilers but you'll need to have witnessed felix and annette's support to understand something! also aged dima up for the dimileth to be appropriate! he's 18 here yes

The Blue Lions all have their own processes.

Byleth lets her eyes scan the class as she lectures in front about proper sword grip. (She’s lost count of how many times Felix has narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to say something.) The classroom is nicely lit during this time of day, allowing her a perfect view of her students and their desks.

And the little habits she’s grown accustomed to.

She nearly lets herself smile at the thought.

She can say with certainty that Annette is the most expressive of the Blue Lions. She’s always the first to speak up when something interests her and the first one to argue back against what she believes is wrong. Her expressions tell the same story. She’ll make a face at anything. A look of disappointment when Gilbert dismisses her, a look of bliss when she takes a bite of Mercedes’ treats, a look of annoyance when Felix is being rude.

She also has a face that exhibits pure concentration.

It’s the face Byleth sees in front of her now as she drones on and, honestly, if she were a lesser person, it’d be a face that would slightly intimidate her. Furrowed brows and focused eyes, somehow staring at the graphs Byleth has sketched on the board all the while furiously scribbling in her notebook. Any effect of intimidation is ruined though, when you notice the way she sticks out her tongue every now and then.

A slightly loud slap breaks her focus on Annette and she turns to the sound.

Sylvain looks at her apologetically, hunched over his desk. Byleth sees a red mark on his hand, Ingrid fuming in her seat in front of him, Felix’s face riddled with annoyance beside him, and connects the dots.

If Annette is a picture of focus and concentration then Ingrid is doubly so.

She’s less expressive than the other girl, a change of emotion only signaled by the quirk of her brows and a small frown. The blond is less manic in taking notes as well, desk and handwriting always neat as can be despite all the stationary she has out. Though anyone can see how fast her quill moves across the paper, Ingrid doesn’t fuss over it and carries on dutifully, never letting anything distract her.

Well.

Almost anything.

Byleth gives Sylvain a look and he counters it with an apologetic shrug before leaning back in his seat and winking. Felix sighs, irritated as he pointedly avoids looking at his seatmate.

Sylvain still manages to puzzle her somehow.

At this point in time, she’s managed to flesh out an image of his true self in contrast to the face he puts up in front of everyone. She’s still uncertain about a few things, however, which is why she keeps quiet.

Though Sylvain’s personality is still an enigma, Byleth likes to think she knows his in-class self quite well.

The man barely takes notes, opting to pore through the books in the library after class or depending on Felix, Dimitri, and Ingrid’s notes. (No matter how hopeless it may seem since Ingrid always doesn’t allow it and Felix always tells him to screw off. Sylvain often laments dramatically about how Dimitri is his only true friend.) On the rare occasion he does take notes, his handwriting is messy and barely legible.

In terms of focus, it’s a fifty-fifty chance with him.

Byleth will find him grinning cheekily, trying to flirt with Ingrid or bothering Felix with some quip or joke. He’s even resorted to throwing a paper airplane in class once while she had her back turned. (It was a funny incident really, Dimitri looked quite scandalized. The plane flew out the room and she turned just in time to see Claude throw it back inside and fly straight into Sylvain’s face.)

Byleth would like to believe it’s his true personality that shines through the other fifty percent of the time.

He’ll have his hands clasped together, hunched a bit, eyes staring intensely at the board or at her. It’s a look that throws her off sometimes. The intensity of his gaze rivals that of the sternness in hers. She still isn’t used to that side of him, yet she finds herself wishing it’d come out more. The spell is broken whenever they make eye contact, however. He’ll revert back to his façade in the blink of an eye with a wink or a grin.

She hopes he’ll be able to open up to her someday.

Byleth turns her gaze to Felix when he scoffs at something she’s said. (It’s a skill of hers to be thinking deeply, yet somehow still manage to lecture on about a lesson.)

“Yes, Felix?” she inquires.

Felix gives her a small glare, not one meaning to get across any real malice. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed.

“It’s nothing. Carry on.”

So she does.

She notices that it’s one of the days he’s chosen not to take any notes (which makes sense since they’re talking about swordsmanship after all.) It’s a fifty-fifty chance with him too. Either he takes his usual neat notes or won’t, reverting to his default arms-crossed, scowling state.

In a way, he and Annette share a quirk.

While Annette’s face says it all, Felix’s reactions are verbal. A scoff, a clearing of the throat, a sigh. Caused by Sylvain most of the time, but sometimes due to her lectures. She’d take offense if she didn’t know that it was just Felix being Felix. As long as he didn’t react loud enough to disrupt the lesson, Byleth would leave him be.

Besides that, there’s not much to say about his class habits.

Though she _has_ noticed something rather odd about him lately. Something to do with aforementioned ginger-haired classmate.

Sometimes, he’ll aim a look of… something at Annette. She can’t quite discern what it is, but she thinks it’s a mix of bewilderment and maybe even wonder. She’s made a note to look into it, but for now she’s chosen to sit back and watch it progress. Byleth hopes something good comes out of it.

And, oh. There it is.

Felix turns his head slightly to sneak a quick glance at his classmate who’s still furiously taking down notes, all furrowed brows and focused gaze. He’s probably noticed the tongue-out instances, Byleth thinks amusedly and wonders what he makes of it.

Yet as subtle as he is, the professor isn’t the only one who’s noticed Felix’s staring habit.

On cue, she sees Mercedes stifle a faint giggle and glance at an oblivious Annette. She catches the professor’s eyes and smiles like it’s their own little secret.

It’s ironic, Byleth thinks.

As quiet as she is about this, Mercedes asks the most questions in class. Sometimes she isn’t even aware of it. Her student has the habit of pondering aloud. Annette usually answers any questions she may have, but Felix beats her to it sometimes since they’re only a seat apart. Annette bristles whenever it happens, but Mercedes doesn’t mind.

Mercedes also doesn’t take any notes. She’s tried to before, but Byleth’s seen her write and it’s the kind of pace that won’t do in class. Byleth is thankful though, that this habit doesn’t follow through on the battlefield. Mercedes’ hands are quick when handling a bow and even quicker when performing magic.

She nods at her student and proceeds with the lecture. They’re moving on to strategy now and she sees the class perk up a bit.

“In a match between an archer and a swordsman, who is likelier to win and why?” she asks them.

Annette, Dimitri, Ingrid, and Ashe’s hands shoot up, but it’s futile since Felix pipes up his response. “What are the conditions?” he asks, analytically.

Byleth looks at him, pleased. Sharp as his sword.

“They’re in an average-sized room, much like this one. Plate armor. The only weapons in the room are the sword and the bow-"

“How many arrows?” Annette asks before quickly apologizing for interrupting. Byleth waves it off.

“Doesn’t really matter, right, teach?” Sylvain argues. “You’d only need one to guarantee a kill.”

“Yes, but,” Ingrid joins in, “what guarantee do we have that the one arrow the archer has can actually kill the swordsman?”

“They’d need to be a quick shot, but it’s possible, isn’t it?”

Felix scoffs. “So, what? You think the swordsman will just idly stand by to wait for the archer to get ready? It’s a match. If he were smart, the swordsman would realize his advantage and charge at the enemy right away. It’s a clear win for the swordsman.”

She’s about to correct him before Ashe joins the fray.

“Actually, though I agree with Felix about the swordsman having the advantage, the chances are fifty-fifty.” He looks at her, hesitant before she nods at him to keep going. He stands up and faces the class.

“While the swordsman does have the advantage, the archer’s skill could actually combat this. For a regular archer, the time it takes to draw an arrow, aim it, and shoot is more than enough for the swordsman, skilled or not, to kill him. However, if he was, in fact, a quick shot, like Sylvain theorized-“ Sylvain lets out a whoop at that before Ingrid shushes him, “-it would be entirely possible for the archer to let off a headshot even with the swordsman charging at him, or shoot at a non-vital area, slowing the swordsman down and giving the archer the advantage,” Ashe concludes.

“But what of the skill of the swordsman, Ashe?” Dimitri inquires. 

“It doesn’t rely on the swordsman’s skill per se. It relies on his speed. Quick shot or not, if the swordsman can charge fast enough, he could kill the archer. In the end, it all depends on whether the archer is fast enough to shoot or the swordsman is fast enough to charge…. Fifty-fifty,” The gray-haired boy finishes.

This is what she loves about the Blue Lions.

They’re all so eager, so determined, and so willing to learn. Debates like this aren’t uncommon for them. Arguments about weaponry and strategy break out all the time and she’s proud of how her students learn more and more with each one and apply everything in battle.

And just like numerous times before, Ashe has proven himself to be one of the, if not, the most participative among them.

Annette, Mercedes, and Sylvain applaud him causing him to redden before sitting back down. Ingrid gives him an encouraging look from beside him. He reddens further. Felix lets out a grunt in concession and Dimitri joins in the applause albeit slightly quieter, a politer volume. Dedue nods in his direction.

“Very good, Ashe. Though you’ve forgotten that they’re both wearing armor, so the archer letting off a non-vital shot wouldn’t do any good,” She gently corrects him.

The boy nods and sends her an embarrassed look. “Ah yes. My apologies, professor.”

It amuses her how shy he can be when he’s the most active in these arguments. Then again, she ponders, he’s also the quietest in class. Taking notes down silently, letting Annette and Mercedes ask the questions, and only ever speaking up to answer a question.

She turns back to the rest of the class and-

Ah.

She was mistaken.

Her eyes are met by Dedue’s and she chides herself for not remembering.

Ashe isn’t the quietest Blue Lion, Dedue is.

The Duscur man remains silent during lectures. Byleth can’t recall a single time he’s ever raised a question and she doesn’t think he ever plans to. He is a solitary presence at Dimitri’s side, but he proceeds like any average student. Writing notes, participating in activities, all the while keeping an eye on his highness. Byleth has nothing else to note about him except for one little thing.

She always catches Dedue staring at her.

It would normally be rude, downright offensive to some, but she’s never said anything of the kind to the man because she _knows_ that look.

It is analytical, calculating. He is trying to figure her out. She knows he’s trying to test her, guessing her intentions, her reasons for acting the way she does. (He’s careful to always treat her with respect though, for that she is thankful.)

All for his beloved king.

It is for that reason that Byleth holds her tongue. She knows Dedue only wants what’s best for Dimitri. She understands she is suspicious, a young mercenary with no teaching experience suddenly employed as a professor at one of the most prestigious schools in Fódlan. Dedue has every right to suspect her motives. She would too, were she in his place.

Though it _is_ still rather rude.

Which is why she always levels him with a gaze of her own.

She holds his stare while she finishes up with the lecture and, when the bell rings, the stalemate ends.

Annette rises from her seat and stretches happily. Mercedes laughs. “You look like a cat, Annie!” she exclaims.

“I’d like to be one,” The ginger-haired girl responds in kind. “A life as relaxing as that gets a girl jealous.”

Felix rolls his eyes and stands up, hand on the hilt of his sword. “It’d suit you, you’re nearly as fussy as one after all.”

Annette bristles and blushes. “No one asked you, Felix!”

“Hey, but-" Sylvain butts in, “-don’t you like cats, Felix?” he asks suggestively.

Felix reddens as Annette’s blush deepens. Mercedes laughs again. “I wonder what that means.” she questioned innocently.

Felix glares, the effect ruined by the blush on his face, before stalking out of the room. Sylvain high-fives Mercedes before following after the shorter man. Mercedes pulls a still rosy-cheeked Annette out after them, giving Byleth a small wave as her friend sputters behind her. Ashe and Ingrid follow shortly, talking about the latest books they’ve read, but not before bowing to the professor and thanking her for the lesson. Byleth has no doubt they’re heading to the library.

She’s in the middle of packing up her things when she looks up from her desk. Dimitri stands before her, Dedue hovering slightly behind.

She raises her brow. “Dimitri?” She doesn’t know why she bothers asking. She already knows why he’s come.

“I’d just like to have a few words, if you don’t mind, professor,” Dimitri says, polite and charming as usual. Byleth nods. Dimitri turns to Dedue. “You may go ahead, Dedue. I’ll meet you at the dorms,” he says.

Dedue nods and bows. “Professor,” he turns to her before walking out the room and closing the doors behind him. As suspicious as he finds her, it comforts Byleth that he trusts her enough to be alone with Dimitri.

“That was quite a riveting session, wasn’t it, professor?” Dimitri asks, eyes shining. (Why is she noticing his eyes?)

“As it usually is.”

“You posed a very good question with the archer and the swordsman. It truly had the class engaged.”

She nods. “It’s my job as a teacher to pose challenges like that upon you.”

Dimitri nods good-naturedly. “Yes, I understand that, professor. I merely wished to commend you for doing it so well.”

She swears she can basically see sparkles around him as he grins at her. She can also hear Sothis telling her to get a hold of herself, ranting about how _improper_ she’s being, but she chooses to tune it out.

It’s become a sort of ritual every after class.

Dimitri and Dedue come to her, the prince dismisses his friend, and he’ll engage in conversation with her. They’ll talk about the lectures, the other Blue Lions, how the last battles went, and the like.

She used to dismiss it as polite conversation. Pleasantries Dimitri had to abide by as the house leader and as the prince.

She drops the assumption though, when she realizes he’s actually genuinely concerned about her.

Everyday, the blond inquires her about how she’s doing, how she’s adjusting to her new life, how she’s liking her quarters, how she’s liking the food of all things. The level of his concern awes Byleth.

She also finds it incredibly endearing. (She can practically hear Sothis’ yells of how she’s finds it more endearing than necessary, but she’ll ignore that along with the butterflies in her stomach.) Dimitri is earnest in everything he does, Byleth concludes. From the way he takes the time to talk to her everyday to the way he’ll gaze at her determinedly, taking in every word she says, be it in class or not.

Again, incredibly endearing. (In her mind’s eye, she sees Sothis kneeling and clutching her head in shame.)

“Professor?”

She jolts. She hadn’t realized he’d been waiting for a reply.

“I thank you for the praise as usual Dimitri, but it really is unnecessary. I’m merely doing what’s required of me.”

Dimitri chuckles. (She shouldn’t like it so much, but she does.) “You’re quite resistant to praise, aren’t you, professor?”

“Unnecessary praise. Now,” she hears Sothis telling her not to dare, but she always does “would you care to join me for tea?”

The noble’s smile widens and he offers her a small bow. “I’d be honored.”

Byleth’s heart leaps.

She doesn’t have a favorite student, she swears. She just so happens to have a student she enjoys spending large amounts of time with. Someone she’d never mind talking to for hours and hours upon end. Someone who makes her heart warm in admiration at the mere sight of him.

Definitely not a favorite student.

But if it does look like that then she’ll simply attribute it to his neat notes, fantastic penmanship, and attentiveness in class.

That should teach her students.

(Though, what’s left to teach to a class that already excels in nearly every way?)

**Author's Note:**

> criticism is welcome but be polite :)


End file.
